In a time without Ganon, a hero has to find a way of living. Enter Link, treasure hunter! Follow Link's adventures as he plods along amidst a war that taxes a country and the politics that cripples it. Set after OoT and MM.

A/N:
Hmm… well, I've decided I've been too quiet for too long.
Staying quiet is boring, since nothing happens that way. So, here's
a new story, even though my old ones aren't quiet finished yet.
This is meant to help encourage the creative juices to move, so hum.
And with that, I welcome you my newest mash of ideas: Golden
Treasure.

Chapter
1:

The
moment after the victor struck the winning blow the guards flooded
the arena and forcibly disarmed him. The crowd was too dazed from the
sudden surge of armoured soldiers and agreeably stayed silent in the
podiums. Shouting loudly, the would-be victor wrestled his way past
one soldier, tripped another and was going to make a break for
freedom before a ring of spears successfully surrounded him.

"Hey,
what gives? I thought this was a friendly tournament-"

"You
are accused of entering this tournament under a false name-"

"Alright,
Bornibo Borbinos was bad taste but-"

"-
under false pretence of claiming the prize-"

"I
do want that prize! Seriously!"

"-
and you are here accused of attempting to assassinate the Royal
Family."

The
would-be victor, who had been nervously eyeing the spears during that
argument, turned to face the head soldier head on. The crowd "oohed"
and "aahed" speculatively.

"What?"

The
head soldier stared at him passively for a while before continuing to
read out loud the rest of the charges. "Under our current War
Decree, we are entitled to imprison you without additional evidence
for a period of sixty days until further proof can be obtained for or
against your crime." He smiled flatly. "You will of course have
to serve an additional sentence of fifteen days for attempting to
hide your identity."

The
would-be victor sighed deeply and nodded. "I'm Link, if that
helps me any," it didn't, "and could you please stop poking my
backside with that thing? Next thing I know one of you will be asking
me to bend over."

The
guards didn't find that amusing. But with the crowd roaring in
laughter ﾨC
where the little children were told daddy will explain when you're
older, sweetkins, just cover your ears ﾨC
the guards skipped that part of their handcuffing procedure as they
led him away.

The
other finalist, still lying in the sand, groaned and struggled to get
up. Well, better to lose to an idiot called Link than Bobobo
Borborbos or whatever he called himself. In fact…

"I…
win?" he croaked from the dirt.

The
referees weren't sure. It wasn't everyday the champion was
arrested.

-s-

Hyrule
Castletown generally is a very pleasant place. The
marketplace, central court and public gardens are clean and healthy,
kept safe with the odd patrol watching for pickpockets or illegal
salesmen. The residential districts range from opulent to
compartmentalised, the upper class residents living closer to the
centre and the working class satisfied with the low rent at the
fringes.

Hyrule
Castle is a grand symbol
of economic achievement, religious piety and cultural wealth -
but more importantly military superiority. It was both fort and
palace, high walls both artistic and defensive, training grounds
mixed with the palace courtyards, underground barracks shielding the
castle in a ring of soldiers. It is said that one of the military
tunnels connects to the mysterious Sheikah Caverns in far off
Kakariko, the shadowy servants to the throne hidden protectors that
would cut off any attempt that escapes through the obvious defence.

Hyrule
Castle dungeons were
boxy, moist and smelled like boiled socks. Located near the barracks,
each cell consisted of two linen sheets as a bed, one bucket as a
toilet and metre thick walls of granite plus enforced steel bars as
containment. Link was certain it was underground, but he wasn't
sure how deep under: going in involved being led through a maze of
steps that went up as much as it went down.

It
was certainly a disheartening place. The only light came from the
jailer's lamp and cigarette, and he often left the room, taking his
lamp with him -
it wasn't so much negligence but more assurance no one could
escape. The man in the cell to Link's left kept whimpering how
he'll be a good citizen and won't sell faulty goods anymore.

"Haha,"
Link declared once the jailer left for the sixth time, "unknown to
all, I have the keen eyesight of the bats and can see past this deep,
deep darkness. And with only a fingernail as my tool I can pick
through any lock that comes my way-"

"Bats
are blind, you moron," a guard called from outside the jail room,
"and these locks are sealed with magic." A light appeared as the
guard popped his head in. "And you're facing the wrong direction
if you want to find the lock." Chuckling, he closed the door once
more -
Link listened closely to the clicks and whirrs of gears shifting and
spinning -
and remarked, "If you want to plan an escape, next time don't
shout it out loud."

A
heavy duty door; as it clicked shut there was a faint clap as the
mechanism locked itself. Link sighed. "This is what you get for
saving a country," he murmured softly to himself.

Most
seventeen year olds were helping at the family business or in
apprenticeship. Link wondered if he was the first seventeen year old
to be thrown into jail. Probably not, he decided, for even though
Hyrule was fairly safe, it did have to deal with occasions of
lawlessness.

"So,"
he turned to address the left wall, "what type of faulty products
did you sell?"

He
never got an answer. Just then the door opened again, and six
soldiers marched in. One held onto the lock briefly, and Link could
see the faint glow of magic unravelling -
invisible to normal eyes, they probably never expected to hold mages
in these dungeons -
before the door opened. Gesturing to Link, the led him out and for
questioning.

-s-

"Where
were you born?"

"In
Hyrule, somewhere to the south."

The
interrogator stared flatly at the vague answer. "Where in the
south?"

Link
shrugged. "Where the trees grow?"

The
interrogator snorted. "You're not making a good defence of not
being a foreign assassin, you know. Who were your parents?"

"No
clue?" Link tried to wipe his hair away from his face -
it was really getting dirty, he needed to wash it soon -
but the block manacle around his wrist made that difficult.

"… Initial
guardian, then?"

"Saria."

"Last
name?"

"No
clue?"

The
interrogator rubbed his head. Torturing potentially innocent suspects
was considered bad form, but this brat was proving to be
unnecessarily difficult.

"You
know, if you want my opinion, you're not a foreign spy." The
interrogator smiled thinly when Link blinked in surprise. He clasped
his hands together and leaned forward slightly. "Foreign spies take
time to be trained, and are generally much older than you look to be.
While blonde hair is fairly rare in our country, you don't have the
jet black hair common to the Devans, or the dark skin of the men of
Shuwa. No one in their right minds would hire a youth to attack the
Royal Family, especially through a public way such as the tournament
you just participated in."

Link
blinked again. "Thank you."

The
interrogator waved it off. "Of course, there are still many
questions you won't answer. Where you're from, who your parents
are, where you learnt such sword skills and at such age-"

"The
other finalist was only slightly older-" Link protested but was cut
off.

"The
other finalist was our Commanding General's son. You, on the other
hand, are a conundrum. You say you have no fixed residence, you
mention no family, you carry no documents, you provide no
information." His eyes narrowed. "Dangerous."

Link
sighed. "The prize of winning the tournament is one thousand rupees
and a dinner with the Royal Family, right?" He waited for the
interrogator to nod. "That's all I wanted. Doesn't wanting to
see the royalty count as patriotism?"

The
interrogator shrugged. "Yes, but we're in a time of war, and we
can't just let anybody greet the King and Princess. Especially
unidentified swordsmen."

Link's
hair was really irritating him. Next time it wouldn't hurt to
invest in a bit of twine. "Fine, then just give me the one thousand
rupees and I'll be on my merry way…" He smiled and winked
conspiratorially.

The
interrogator sighed. He really hated dealing with this brat. "Alas,
your charge of being a foreign assassin still stands. You'll have
to wait sixty days for that charge to be cleared, unless you provide
evidence against it."

Link
slouched back into his chair, and yelped when it tilted over. With a
thud his back smacked against the ground, accompanied by a soft thump
as his head bounced off. "Ask Princess Zelda. Tell her that Link
wants to talk about the story of the treasure of the Golden Land."

The
interrogator rolled his eyes but noted it down nonetheless. What a
silly boy to think that the Princess would even talk to him. He was
going to enjoy a lonely sixty days in jail.

-s-

They
scrubbed him and nearly drowned him in boiling water. Toothed
contraptions clawed at his skull as foreign chemicals were forced
into his mouth to coat his teeth and gums. Saws worked at his
fingernails and more foreign chemicals were pasted onto his skin.

The
standby beauticians had the duty of making one Link presentable
enough for the appearance of one Princess Zelda. And he was the
stinkiest, dirtiest, worst-kept creature they ever came across.

The
brown tunic he had been wearing was apparently meant to be green. It
took two hot washes and rapid dry treatment to get all that mud off.
The head beautician clucked at it and decided no; the savage will
have to wear the maroon silk suit they will provide. After forcing
him into it -
it was really hard ignoring his fashion ignorant comments of "I
look like a bloody rhubarb, who in graces designed clothing to make
people look like vegetables" -
his hair was combed once more -
he was nearly strangled after his comment "you don't need to
share your baldness, shiny" -teeth flossed -
"vhat typfe of toof fairy are yhu" -
and, lastly, shoes assembled.

By
the end they were grateful he made no comments about the shoes. Some
of them nearly cried when he left tap dancing in those priceless
clogs.

In
the end the only indication that he was a prisoner was the escort of
six guards accompanying him and the manacles still cuffing his
wrists. Standing as tall as the tallest guard he strode with a regal
bear, eyes focussed towards his goal down the corridor. His body
message spoke of purpose, of contained power, and of an itch
somewhere a bit too impolite to scratch in public.

They
led him to a study room, guessing from the number of books that
graced the shelves. Near the side was a long antique table with
twelve chairs around it, and they pushed him into the smallest one
with the back towards the door. Link stretched as he waited.

And
waited.

The
sun was on its descent and he was still waiting.

He
glanced at the nearest guard. "She takes her sweet time, doesn't
she?"

The
guard grunted in disgust at the casual reference. "You wait upon
the Princess, not the other way round."

Link
would have continued the discussion when the guards suddenly
stiffened into position. The Princess' arrival was introduced by
the heavy march of another escort of guards down the marble corridor.
He twisted around in time to see twelve guards file into the room
before the Princess herself.

Despite
seven years under the reign of Ganondorf with the dangerous food
shortage and foul air Zelda had grown up to become a beautiful lady,
but seven years of a proper diet and a clean environment showed the
true beauty she was. Link smiled slightly sadly when she looked in
his direction, but that smile was wiped away by his general cheer.

"So,
the Princess does exist after all, and isn't a fairy tale to hide
the King's impotence." He still smiled when the head guard
clobbered him over the head for that insult.

Zelda
looked at him uncertainly as she moved to the furthest seat opposite
from Link. "And a good evening to you," she greeted at last.

Link
nodded. "Isn't it kind of hard talking across this long table
like this? And do we need so many guards in this room?" The six
that led him plus the twelve that escorted her added to eighteen
altogether, all armed and watching him warily.

She
smiled lightly. "I apologise for this precaution. You stated you
wanted to talk about the Golden Land?"

Link
laughed and shook his head. "Nah, that was just a story to get you
to come down here. I just need you to vouch against my sixty day
prison sentence."

Link
almost sighed. Of course. When time was sent back all the Sages were
sent back to sleep, and with that, their memories of the future. Link
was the only being that remembered that dystopia.

"That
doesn't matter, future queenie, I'm just asking for your
judgment." He smiled and let the same guard rant about addressing
her as the Princess before continuing. "Do I look like an assassin
to you?"

She
looked surprised at this turn. "I don't believe this is my
judgment to call-"

Link
waved it off as best as he could with his restricted hands. "They
think I won the tournament for the purpose of killing you, your
family and your pet dog." He rolled his eyes at the guards. "I
just want the reward money and the invitation for free fine dining.
I'll admit I don't come across as the most outstanding of
individuals, but do I look like a criminal?"

She
chuckled. "No, no you do not, but it would be foolish to make a
judgment on looks. I'm sorry, but I don't know you well enough to
judge your character."

No,
not anymore. Link bowed his head
momentarily as she prepared to leave. "The war is straining the
King's resources, isn't it."

Zelda
paused in surprise, as did the guards. "What gave that idea?"

Link
raised his head in memory. "To quote, 'the top sixteen
contestants are given advanced entry into the Hylian Army'. It's
a bloody invitation. Now, including all those army adverts that cover
Castletown and Kakariko, it doesn't take too much to figure out
that more men are needed. The Hylian Army is skilled and was never
short on manpower before." He pointed out the window. "A bit of
travelling shows that the King has hosted the same tournament with
the same rules and rewards in the Gerudo, Zora and Goron regions."

He
sighed. "You father has been quite the political bully, eh? When
Ganondorf pledged his loyalty and then disappeared, it didn't take
too long for your father to assimilate the Gerudo Kingdom those seven
years ago, and then soon affirm the loyalty of the Zoras and the
Gorons." He sighed and stood up. "And look at us now, at war with
Deva and Shuwa. Just three years before there were countries between
us and them, but they've been conquered too."

Link
looked straight at Zelda. "No one hears the voices of the Goddesses
anymore. They do not accept worship by sword and fire." He shook
his head. "The Goddesses are angry. The treasure of the Golden Land
is no longer a form of reward, but a tool of punishment."

Princess
Zelda looked like she was going to ask questions but he shook his
head. "It looks like you'll have to wait sixty days for an
answer, hmm?" Standing, he allowed the guards to shift from their
startled stupor before letting them escort him out.

As he
walked past Zelda at the door, he nodded her direction and smiled.

-s-

Hallelujah,
it worked! Link was performing the cancan in his cell as outside a
guard was explaining the details of his release to the jailer. Had
Princess Zelda shared with her father's expansionary ambitions,
that trick of his would not have worked. Praise the high heavens for
doubts!

As
light filled the room he stilled immediately, lest anyone know of his
excitement. Still, the jailor looked irked at the giant smile
decorating his face. No one had the right to be that happy.

"Off
you go then, got some lucky Royal pardon," he muttered sourly and
unlocked the cell. Link hugged him around his giant potbelly and gave
the fat of his three chins a happy jiggle before skipping away. The
guard watched the procession stonily as he read out the terms of
release, which Link nodded to agreeably but didn't pay a whit of
attention to.

It
wasn't long before he was escorted back to Castletown, garbed in
his cleaned green tunic and breeches, the newest items in his
inventory being the ugly rhubarb suit from two days earlier, an
invitation to have dinner with the Royal family and a bank draft for
one thousand rupees.

He
quickly pawned off the suit and stuffed the two slips of paper into
his fattened wallet. They probably expected him to attend dressed
smart; hah for that. They probably expected him to attend that night;
hah for that too. Rich folk can afford to wait one more day.

In
all honesty, the fear of assassins was a legit one. A long while back
there used to be a problem of small groups of Gerudo warriors
sneaking all the way into the Palace grounds to attack the King, but
they calmed down after special envoys were sent towards the Desert.
The absorbed states were still bitter about the loss of sovereignty,
and they probably did send assassins.

He
was just walking down the alley minding his own business when he saw
a distinctive ponytail of red hair slip around the corner. Sighing,
he followed her towards the fringes of Castletown.

The
streets got narrower as builders had tried to fit as many apartments
into less space, and it wasn't long before he was weaving in
between the laundry some tenants left hanging outside. He stood on a
cat's tail which yowled at him, but ignoring that break in his
secretiveness he followed her towards a warehouse.

"This
is what, your sixth attempt to attack the throne?" Link called out
to the large sacks of grain, "Don't you ever get tired of this?
Give up and go home."

He
tilted his head and allowed a throwing knife to sail harmlessly past
and embed itself deep into a sack. Grained spilled out to scatter
against the floor.

Ooh,
her throws are getting stronger. Link knelt to grab a handful of
grain. "Come on, Nabooru. I thought you thought Princess Zelda was
a nice person."

It
was as if she was summoned by the mention of her name. Link yelped as
a wall of grain burst apart as the crazy woman charged her way
through it. He twisted backwards to avoid the first swing at his head
and had to do a complicated upside down crabwalk to dodge the follow
up. Crazy Gerudo women always run around with a pair of swords.

"Why
won't you die?"
she snarled at Link as he continued to weave out of her attacks. A
downward chop missed him, but tore through the sack on the other
side.

"Because
you love me and cherish me and want to keep me safe forever?" Link
asked hopefully. Nabooru gave him a flat glare and renewed her
assault, blades dancing in hypnotic patterns as they reached for his
neck.

Link
loved finding patterns. It made life that much easier. Dodging one
thrust, instead of skipping backwards to avoid the following swing he
jumped forwards instead. Nabooru didn't have much time to adjust as
a handful of grain was thrown at her eyes. Her attack misguided, the
only weapon she had left was the momentum of her attack as their
bodies smashed together into the air.

Unfortunately,
Link was a good twenty kilograms heavier than her. Much like the last
time this happened, the moment his foot touched the ground he charged
forward, body ramming her into a pile of deflated grain sacks.

"Sometimes
I think you're just asking for a beating," Link commented
casually. Nabooru's swords were thrown aside, and he was currently
sitting cross legged on top of her back, acting the veritable
mountain. She could only flop uselessly under his weight.

"Shut
up," she grumbled, most of the previous heat in her voice gone,
"you're too fast."

"I'm
a bloody tornado with fifteen kilos of armour, I'm the god of light
speed without," Link commented proudly from above. She snorted in
repulsion and tried to buck him off.

"We
seem to do this every odd day now. Don't you get tired?"

"Get
off me."

"Now,
you're a healthy twenty five year old lady that can do something a
bit more productive than trying to kill the King." He paused for a
thought. "Or me."

"Twenty
two," she spat. "Get off me."

"I
mean, you're the ambassador for the Gerudo tribes," Din knows why
they picked a crazy impulsive witch like her, "and so you're
meant to be here for goodwill talks, not assassination attempts. You
make a lousy assassin."

She
flopped one more time, and yielding he rolled off her. Patting her
back, she glared when she felt the footprints embedded onto her vest.
Grumbling at him, she went around to fetch her swords before
disappearing for a moment. She reappeared carrying a roasted lamb
shank and a basket of fruits, which he tossed in Link's direction.

"Free
food!" he cheered delightedly as he snatched both before they would
hit the ground. The meat was still warm; she must have smoked it
recently. "See? Don't you love me and cherish me and want to keep
me safe forever?"

Nabooru
rolled her eyes and sat down opposite him. "You're
the only nut who won't tell on an assassination plot for food."
She glared at him. "And I wasn't planning on killing anyone
today, just fighting for fun."

Nabooru
hated losing to Link. While she wasn't the
strongest among the Gerudo, she was still pretty damn strong. It made
no sense to lose to a Hylian who claimed his profession was a bloody
treasure hunter. The impertinent brat even asked for permission to go
rob the Temple of the Colossus.

Speaking
of fighting for fun, she smirked. "I heard you got thrown in jail
for winning." Her smile widened at his irritated grunt. "Was it
some breach of the rules? Forgot to enter wearing trousers?
Deliberately took a leak in the middle of a fight? Farted loudly at
the championship ceremony? Blew your nose on the Princess' dress?"

Link
gave her a flat stare. "I'm hurt that you weren't watching.
Some friend you are."

They
weren't really friends. Their first meeting involved Nabooru
crouched in a corner of the Palace rooftops and aiming a crossbow and
Link making a very loud greeting, ruining her stealth. After a
healthy chase by the palace guards Nabooru tried to kill Link. Him
the smelly jerk that he was, he managed to steal a win with extensive
use of Deku nuts and demanded a free dinner. The second meeting
involved her tactical ambush of the King's Guard halted by Link
falling out of the sky and on top of her. Another chase by the
guards, another fight, and another free meal.

The
same thing happened the following three times. Nabooru had the
feeling that Link didn't take her assassination attempts seriously.

"Why'd
you come out of jail so early?" Smelly jerk should have stayed in
there forever. "Did it cost too much to feed you?"

Link
fished through his wallet and flicked a laminated piece of paper at
Nabooru. Folding out the creases she tried to read it. "Little
princess likes me," Link answered through a mouth full of lamb,
"bailed me out, now she buys me dinner. See, that's a real lady
for you. Why can't you do that more often?"

Link
stared at the empty space in surprise. "What? Hey! Give that back!"

-s-

The
guards looked at the ticket and then at the guest. The invitation
looked authentic, if a bit crumpled. The guest didn't look like who
they were expecting.

"Trust
me, it's me," Link heaved deeply through his lungs. Damn Nabooru,
making him chase her all over the place. "I'm Link, happy victor
of your tournament."

From
running through the streets to bouncing off rooftops his hair was a
wreck. Chasing Nabooru through the gardens led to a few twigs and
leaves and what suspiciously looked like bird droppings caught in his
hair, and the dust and soot from the industrial sector turned his
hair from blond to incredibly dirty blond. The same soot plastered
his exposed skin and clothes, and from falling into the river once
his breeches and boots were soaked and coated with mud.

And
he stood hunched, glared like a maniac and breathed noisily. He
didn't look quite like someone invited to meet the Royal Family.

"Crazy
witch made me run to get it back," he mumbled before doubling over,
"I think I have indigestion." He contorted his face in pain and
farted loudly.

The
guard returned the ticket to him. "I'm sorry, but you will have
to look presentable before we can admit you."

Link
glared up from his position and pushed the invitation back to the
guard's hand. "I don't think you understand the pain involved
in keeping this little piece of paper," he seethed, jabbing at the
guard with a finger, "and so the sooner I can get rid of it, the
better. Now, I realise I look like crap, smell like crap and do in
fact have bird crap in my hair, but if you don't mind, I'd like
to get this over with, hmm?"

The
guard looked at his partner and sighed. Time to call the standby
beautician team again.

-s-

Princess
Zelda wasn't sure what to make of the tournament champion. The
rumours fluttering among the maids were that he scared his way past
the gate guards. The stylists and beauticians said that he was an
absolute monster, a creature undeserving of civilisation. The guards
themselves kept quiet.

Looking
into the mirror she decided there was no need to wear makeup for this
event. Father thought that this champion was a funny fellow, and
thought that interacting with him would be a good experience for the
other nobles.

"Are
you attending as well, Impa?" Zelda called out. A light grunt of
affirmation was heard from the corner.

"Of
course. After the past two assassination
attempts, we can't be careless with your life, Zelda."

She
sighed. After the guards managed to chase away an assassin with a
crossbow the first time, the number of escorts she had increased from
the standard two to a dozen. The second one had been more serious,
with a Shuwan female masquerading as a Gerudo and approaching close.
If it wasn't for the goodwill ambassador Nabooru falling on top of
her (although there were questions on what she was doing on the roof
at that time and swearing at ink of all things), none of the guards
would have been capable to defend Zelda against the poisoned dart.

With
a sigh she put on her earrings and left the vanity table. She patted
her dress to make sure that the defensive knife Impa insisted she
carry was hidden.

Zelda
hated greeting the nobles. Oh, there were a few good ones, but most
of them were pompous asses with the hunger from territorial expansion
filling their eyes. The worst was the duke of the new southern
provinces. That man deserves to be hanged.

She
nodded to her personal guards and waited for them to create the
protective ring around her before continuing down the hallways.
Arriving at the banquet hall, she took a deep breath, twisted her
lips into the needed fake smile, and pushed open the doors.

There
were the nobles, and her father of course, but what was apparently
catching everyone's attention was the juggling feat the guest Link
was performing with knives. Her father laughed in good spirits as
Link added a complicated twist, letting the blades dance around his
body like flowing ribbons as they arced over his shoulders and waist.
Seeing her enter, he wriggled his eyebrows before snapping all the
knives up in one hand and passing them over to the closest servant.

"A
fine display, good Link!" the King clapped in appreciation, leading
the light applause from the other nobles, "life would be more
entertaining if the fellows around here would bother learning skills
like that." The applause immediately gave way to nervous laughter.
The king turned around and noticed Zelda enter. "Ah, my daughter!
Come, you will find this guest of ours the most pleasant of company!"

Link
turned to face her and wriggled his eyebrows. A waiter ran up to
whisper into his ear, and his eyes immediately lighted up before
performing a bow. As she approached in greeting he smiled lightly.

"Good
to meet you again, Zelda," he greeted softly.

Sitting
next to the guest Link was an uncomfortable experience. Whenever
their eyes met he had the "I know something you don't" look, a
look that made her feel unpleasantly ignorant. He seemed to treat the
world around him as some sort of game, his eyes lighting with
amusement no matter the words spoken or the actions done.

The
legend of the Golden Land was an obscure one. She needed to find out
how he learnt of something where the only texts exist in the Palace
libraries.

The
only problem was that she didn't want this discussion to be shared
among the nobles. And with her father there, the current discussion
was monopolised in his direction.

"Treasure
hunter, eh?" the King mused over that profession as he sipped his
wine. "You say you've helped the Gorons regain one of their
historical relics from Death Mountain?"

Link
smiled. "You can ask Darunia to confirm it."

The
King laughed and clapped Link heartily on the back, but Zelda
frowned. To the best of her knowledge no Hylian received a pass
allowing them to cross the border security in the past twenty years.

"And
so what's your new plan of action, treasure hunter?" one of the
nobles called from his seat.

"I
thought I had permission to enter the Gerudo lands and hunt for
something there, but the last time I tried they threw me out." He
shrugged. "Guess I got to try harder."

He
took a bite of his food and frowned. "I hate to surprise anybody,"
he proclaimed loudly, "but you might want to avoid the mint gravy."
He took a look at the colouring lathering nearly everybody's food.
"It's drugged."

The
first response didn't come from the dinner guests; they were all
sitting blankly uncertain whether he was stating a joke or not.

The
first response came as a throwing knife hurtling towards Princess
Zelda.

Link
swore loudly when he snatched it out of the air.

The
guards positioned at the windows had no chance. Glass shattered.
Short spears skewered armour. Cloaked beings swung through the broken
windows, long curved knives seeking the throats of the soldiers that
were still breathing.

Link
was too busy catching throwing knives.

He
yelped when he kicked aside a thrown spear.

Assassins.
Twenty of them. And only fifteen guards standing.

Someone
was screaming the alarm. Link paid no attention to the nobles diving
under the table, but he did take note of the defensive crescent
formation the remaining guards took.

The
assassins had their faces masked, but the distinctive black hair
marked them as Devans. Link nearly whistled appreciably at the
weapons they carried: some had crossbows slung across their back, but
all of them wielded a single edged sword and a knife as a pair.

"You
know what the problem of being alive is?" Link suddenly called out,
attracting the assassins' attention. He stood on the table and
flipped the three throwing knives he caught casually. "You fear
death."

With
a leap he crossed the ring of guards and smashed bodily into one
Devan. One hand grabbing the enemy's head, Link shoved downwards
and smacked the skull against the floor.

Hidden
among the shrieks of the nobles, the furious roar of the assassins
and rallying cries of the guards was an amused laugh. Weaving between
the knives and swords that followed him, Link laughed.

He
skipped to press his back against one opponent. Foot extended, the
opponent fell and had his skull knocked against the floor.

Two
down.

Link
flicked out one throwing knife. It flew badly, and the handle slapped
the assassin's face. Good enough. Link shot a palm to the gut and
charged him into his partner behind. Link kept on dashing until both
of them smashed against a support column.

Three
down. Four down.

The
fifth assassin was surprised when Link hooked his fingers to grab the
sword from the blunt side and twisted it free. A stomp to the knee
was followed by a snap kick to the gut and knee to the chin.

Five
down. There, fifteen against fifteen.

With
the element of surprise gone the professionalism of the King's
Guard decimated the foreign assassins. Sharp swords and knives did
little against the steel Hylian shield and the clubbing power of the
longsword.

He
twisted and threw the second knife. Its arc through the air was cut
short as it slapped against a knife flying towards Link.

The
third knife flew true. The man in the waiter's costume released a
brief shout as the knife wedged into his ankle.

Seeing
Link approach slowly, the last assassin scrabbled back frantically
before drawing out another knife. As the guards surrounded, he swung
it deep…

… into
his own heart.

Link
blinked. "Could have taken poison. All he had to do was drink the
mint gravy."

The
nobles were still cowering beneath the table. Link didn't know
whether it was some foolish courage or paralysing fear that had kept
Princess Zelda and the King still sitting in their seats.

-s-

"You
don't make a lot of friends in this profession, eh?" Link winced
as the Royal Family's doctor bandaged his palms. Catching throwing
knives was one of the dumbest things to do, although Link mentally
noted to thank Nabooru for the practice.

The
palace chemists had done some fancy analysis on the gravy and
determined that Link was correct in calling it drugged, but the
drug's purpose was to cause drowsiness. Link guessed that it would
have made more of a spectacle to have assassins waltz in, kill the
sleepy target and waltz out as opposed to the target dropping dead
suddenly.

"This
is the third attempt on my life," Zelda sighed. Life was beautiful
before the war; no additional need for soldiers, no greedy nobles, no
assassination attempts. It was tragic how she could almost understand
the assassins in their cause.

The
five assassins Link managed to defeat alive had poisoned pills hidden
in their teeth. Including the fake waiter -
a Hylian, which was most disturbing ﾨ- there were none alive for questioning.

"Seventh,"
Link corrected.

"What?"

"Seventh
attempt on your life, but most of them were done by the same person."
Looking at her horrified look, he placated, "don't worry, Na-
she's relatively harmless, you'd probably like her if you got to
know her."

Zelda
hated that all-knowing look of his. "How do you-"

"What's
more worrying," Link cut in loudly, "is the most recent attempt.
Wow, if I wasn't there, they probably would have succeeded." He
thanked the doctor before the doctor left the room. Turning back to
Zelda, he pointed in the direction of the dining room and continued,
"Don't you find it strange that twenty Devans managed to sneak
past all the heavy watch protecting the palace? One or two I can see
slipping through by stealth, but twenty is pushing it."

He
wriggled the fingers of his bandaged hand. "Coupled with the Hylian
assassin, someone's helping them get in. The Devans want you dead,
granted, but now a Hylian also wants you dead." His smile wasn't
comforting. "Cheerful friends you have."

Zelda was close to asking him why, but that infuriating gaze of his
made her bite back the question. No, while the Devans would have
taken a shot at any royalty they could, they wanted her father dead.
Assuming the Devans were working with the planted Hylian, that
attempt was deliberately targeting her: memories of knives flashing
through the air kept reminding her of that.

As
the only child, the inheritance of the throne goes to her. With
Hyrule expanding under her father's command, that throne was
getting more and more coveted. Hyrule prior was already blessed by
nature, but with the countries absorbed it was now rich in iron, salt
and gold. If either Shuwa or Deva falls, then Hyrule would become
politically the largest country on the continent.

If
Zelda was dead, who would the country go to?

She
didn't know.

Her
smile made her feel sick. "Cheerful friends indeed."

They
were back in the library, but this time they weren't sitting far
opposite one another. Guards lined every shelf and wall, three posted
to each window with two facing out and one facing in. Link didn't
need to guess that there was someone attending to the door.

And
there was also Impa. As Zelda dropped her head into her palms in
weariness, Impa placed a calming palm on her shoulder.

Link
sighed. The Zelda he knew was stronger than this. Then again, the
Zelda he knew had a clear cut enemy, and with a title of 'King of
Evil' it was easy to tell whether you were on the good or bad side.

"Well,
you bought my bail for answers," Link shuffled his chair so that
they were sitting face to face, "so it's time for your questions.
What do you want to know?"

The
first question that jumped to mind was for him to clarify his
knowledge on the Golden Land. No, the guards looked impatient, and
she could tell it wouldn't be long before someone threw him out.
Better ask the question on the punishment of the Goddesses.

Instead,
she asked, "Why are you so strong?"

And
at once his face changed from lightly amused to nostalgic and
sorrowful before returning to his usual mask, but weighed with a
heavier happiness. He seemed to absorb her profile as she stared at
him, his eyes tracing across her face with a withheld longing.
Involuntarily his lips moved in answer, but he shook his head and
inhaled.

"Because
my profession requires it." He jerked his
eyebrows up in joke. "Not very ladylike, but you can be a treasure
hunter too. I bet I'll perform better with a rival, even if she's
some coddled rich kid."

He
leaned back, more relaxed now, but Zelda could tell his eyes were
still tracing her face. She had the feeling that he was comparing it
to some other image, some other memory.

The
guard grunted at the insult thrown at her and declared visiting time
was up, if he would like another appointment would he please register
his name at the entrance but it would not be due for another week.
Waving in understanding Link got up and approached the door, but he
turned around looked deep into her eyes before leaving.

Impa
played around with the idea of Zelda as a treasure
hunter, but she was more intrigued by another matter. He may not have
said it, but Impa read the words that danced across his lips, and
Link's silent answer to Zelda's question was mysterious.

Because
you made me so.

-s-

"A
moment of your time, Link."

Link
had an incredible feel of déjà vu, meeting Impa at the
Castletown gate. He was almost expecting her to point towards Death
Mountain and then disappear with a flash of a Deku nut.

But
never mind with the memories. The assassin issue was a week ago. He
managed to wrestle a Gerudo pass from Nabooru the day before -
the "please, please, pretty please" method didn't work, the
"but you stole my royal invite, it's only fair" method didn't
work, the "just give it to me or I'll kick your sorry arse"
method did, after he kicked her sorry arse -
and he was off towards his next treasure stop when Impa stopped him
before he stepped onto Hyrule Field.

"Eh,
yes?"

"I'm
sorry for the late introduction. I am Impa, the Princess'
caretaker. We have been most impressed by your performance at the
dinner, and would like to request your help in improving the
protection of the Princess."

Impa
raised her palms to cut off his excuse. "I don't
intend to chain you down to Castletown. My… nephew is also charged
with the Princess' security, and I would like you to accept him as
your apprentice as you follow your own journeys." Seeing his
uncomprehending stare she added, "It is only for one season, and
you will be duly rewarded."

Link
took the large bag of rupees she extended automatically, but his
attention was riveted to the new figure that appeared from behind
Impa's large frame.

Funky
Sheikah battle gear and cowl. Check.

Funky
Sheikah eye symbol. Check.

Funky
Sheikah red eyes. Check.

Girlish
way of standing. Check. Real men cross
their arms.

Hello
Zelda, Link almost spurted out. Hello Sheik, then he remembered he
wasn't meant to know her alter ego's name yet.

"Hello
partner," Link greeted with a very broad grin.

He
didn't expect her to take that treasure hunting idea of his
seriously.

-s-

A/N:
And voila, here's the first chapter. If you haven't figured it
out already, this is set in a universe where when Link was sent back
in time, and everyone forgot what happened in the future -
think of this as a happier version of my oneshot RememberMe.

Don't
have much to say. Other than I hope you enjoyed this. Every time the
exams roll around I start writing fiction. For non-fanfic authors out
there, I recommend you guys to take up writing; it's incredibly
soothing, if a bit wasteful of your time.

Cheers!

Silence-Darkness

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.